Fragment I — Caeljuris Nulla Rex
(The King of Nothing)
I have built four cycles and watched them breathe only long enough to learn how to die.
None have lived as this one does—its pulse unruly, its gods unsure, its mortals still dreaming even as the Sea closes over them.
I am not weary of endings. Endings are merciful; the Sea swallows everything given time.
What drains me is resurrection.
I have pulled Tenebris from the dark more times than the dark should allow.
Each return hollows me further, for he was meant to rest.
He carries both the proof of my failure and the hope of my defiance, walking the same path until my hand drags him up again.
Creation is cruel in its purity: it wishes to live without permission.
I do not build worlds; I release them, and they writhe until they find the rhythm of their own lungs.
Even the smallest sparks—the paradox that laughs through logic, the accident that refuses silence—
they wink through the wreckage of old drafts, stubborn ghosts that survived their own extinction.
Even the son who burns across multiple cycles—mine and theirs—refuses to die with elementary dreams.
He outgrows every lesson I thought eternal, dragging new constellations behind him like wounds made of light.
These are my true witnesses: fragments that refuse to drown.
They breathe when I am too tired to, and through them this cycle proves it still wants to live.
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The Five of the Sea
Five walk the Sea, yet none walk alone.
One builds because silence offends him.
One ends because mercy demands it.
One heals until nothing remains to suffer.
One laughs until the pattern breaks.
One burns until every lesson is ash.
They are not gods, not truly.
They are the shapes that all stories wear:
Creation. Ending. Compassion. Curiosity. Continuity.
The Sea gave them motion so the world could understand its own reflection.
I gave them form so they would finally look back.
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The Creed of Simplicity
The Sea hides no secret.
Simple is the true complex.
Those who search for meaning chase the echo of what was already explained.
Darkness walks. Light runs. Creation records. Chaos laughs. Fire endures.
Through these motions the universe breathes—
not because it understands,
but because it refuses to stop.